


Aftershocks

by aparticularbandit



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV), The Tick (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, and so i just wanted to write it out, i hadn't originally necessarily meant for it to be a multi-chap fic but, i might add more characters from the respective shows eventually idk, oh well, they just kind of popped into my head and did THIS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:23:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aparticularbandit/pseuds/aparticularbandit
Summary: After Rose's "death" and escape from jail, Luisa finds her again, years later, with a new second-in-command, who looks just like her!  What is going on?  Luisa's heard of bad break-ups before, but this is not what she imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame them. I blame them. They jumped into my head and did this. This chapter isn't even what I expected, and I guess this is going to be longer. I don't know where they're going with this. But here, have this! Enjoy!

“You _didn’t_ ,” Rose whispered, eyes focusing on the petals covering the bed.

“I _did_ ,” Luisa answered, brushing her fingers along the curve of Rose’s cheeks.  “I ordered in bags of petals from off the island, just for this.”  For some people, it might have been considered a waste of money, but money was less important than this.  They’d spent so much time away from each other in the past few years, and before that so much time with only each other’s company, that she’d wanted their reunion to be special.

Rose hadn’t called it a coming back, but Luisa knew that was what it was.  Just like Rose hadn’t been able to stay away from her when still married, Luisa hadn’t been able to stay away from her, either.  There’d been scattered moments, breadcrumbs for her to follow, and while the rest of the world believed that her great love was dead, Luisa had known better.

So she’d used all of her IQ of 152 to find her again, and for her?  Rose had wanted to be found.

\--which was a good thing because Luisa wouldn’t have known what to do if, once Rose realized she was looking, her love had decided to shut everything down and run away from her, to hide herself so completely that even Luisa couldn’t find her again.

They were no longer in the Caymans – her own offering to the police when Rose had been thrown in jail had cemented that – but they’d met in one of the houses Emilio had purchased across the globe to hide himself if his art thief business had gone south, never imagining that one day his daughter might use them to meet with his ex-wife, his _murderer_ , in locations where they could be kept secret, safe.  Luisa had said that, as long as they still owned the properties, it was a good idea to go through them every now and again, rent them out to tourists or _something_ instead of letting them lie fallow, and since they were all still in her name, she could do what she wanted with them.  (There was one, in Cuba, where’d she’d sent a lovely family who needed a place to stay while they visited the land of their heritage.  She’d given them the keys with no intent of making them pay.  She knew what it was like to need to know about her past; Rose had given her the truth of her mother to her, and, eventually, that of Rafael’s parentage as well.  She hadn’t said anything to her brother yet.  It had to feel spontaneous, and right now, all of her spontaneity had been used on _this_.)

Her lips brushed chastely against Rose’s own, short, sweet, and when she stepped back towards the bed, fingers dancing at the edge of Rose’s sleeves, she knew Rose followed her.  It would always be like this – one of them chasing the other – and it would always _end_ like this – with Rose breaking the space between them with a kiss so hungry for her that Luisa quivered before lying back on the rose petal covered bed, one hand tangling with Rose’s curls as her leg lifted to rub against one of Rose’s own before wrapping around her waist.

“ _Ahem._ ”

Someone on the other end of the room cleared their throat, and Rose stopped, her head lowered.  The sudden response intrigued Luisa, who had quickly buried her face in the crook of Rose’s neck, but not enough to distract her from moving her lips _not_ so chastely against Rose’s skin.

“ _Ahem._ ”

The sound a throat clearing came much more loudly this time, and Rose lifted her head enough that her neck was just out of Luisa’s reach.  “Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

“I just wanted to let you know that the building is secure.”

Luisa could just see the top of the other person’s head in her new line of sight just over Rose’s shoulder, and she gripped onto Rose a little tighter – with a satisfying _hum_ of approval from the redhead – so that she could angle herself to better see her.  There was enough shadow that she couldn’t see the other woman properly; given that Rose had barely arrived before the stars came out, there wasn’t much light left to see her by.  But her voice sounded familiar – not in the way that someone she knew intimately might, because she was certain she’d never met this woman before in her life, the stance was all wrong, as was the way the tiny hint of light lit up one of her eyes but not the other – but in the way a voice actor’s might when you knew them from something else you saw once when you were a kid was suddenly thrust upon you the first time you _see_ them acting on screen.

“Good.  You’ve let me know.”  Rose’s voice was exasperated, hands planted firm against the mattress to keep herself aloft.  Her head turned over her shoulder just enough for her to face the other woman.  “Is there anything else?”

“No.”

But as Luisa watched, the other woman didn’t move.  For a moment, she thought the other woman was waiting on something, some sort of secret command that only Rose knew, but then her gaze turned to meet Luisa’s.  Immediately, Luisa felt a shock of something grip the center of her chest.  Not unpleasant, not _fear_ , certainly, not even the hint of familiarity she felt before, although that was certainly still there.

“Do you want to watch?” Luisa asked, resting her chin against Rose’s shoulder.  She could feel Rose tense beneath her, but she knew that the idea of a potential audience had always been something Rose truly enjoyed, even if most of the time they’d only been at _risk_ of being seen (Betty notwithstanding).  Her head tilted to one side of the room.  “There’s a chair.  Make yourself comfortable.”

“ _Luisa_ ,” Rose whispered, and Luisa leaned back just enough to look into Rose’s blue eyes.  Rose was too powerful to _plead_ (although she’d been known to beg, when Luisa had her in just the right spot), so the look in her eyes was more of a flashing frustration to match the muscle in her jaw tightening beneath her skin.

Luisa brushed one hand against Rose’s face again, cupping her cheek with one hand.  _It’s okay_ , she wanted to tell her and hoped that her soothing actions communicated.  _I don’t mind._

Which wasn’t exactly true.  She _did_ mind.  A little.  She hadn’t expected Rose to bring anyone with her at all, to be honest, considering it was _her_.  It’s not like she was going to say anything, and she’d been very careful to not be followed or to let anyone track their communication.  Besides, everyone believed Rose was dead!  It wasn’t like Luisa had been acting _oddly_.  Just research.  On her own time.

“Thanks, but no thanks.  I’ve got better things to do.”

And just like that, the woman in the doorway was gone, the door shutting behind her with an ominous _click_.

Luisa relaxed back against the bed, and Rose relaxed so that she was barely hovering above her.  “Who was that?” she asked, eyes searching Rose’s.

“Janet.  She’s my new second-in-command,” Rose said as she brushed her nose along Luisa’s skin.

“What happened to—?”

But then Rose’s lips found that sensitive spot where the line of her jaw curved into the slope of her neck, unhooking so that she could suck on her skin, and the question left Luisa’s lips without a second thought.  Her hand moved to Rose’s chin, fingers lifting her away from her neck, where there would be a mark left the following morning.  “Impatient.”

Rose didn’t say anything in reply, her lips curving into the crooked grin she had when there was mischief on her mind, and Luisa’s eyes widened.  “No, _don’t_ lift me, you _know_ I don’t—”

But then Rose was lifting her up and into a better place on the bed, Luisa hiding her face in her neck again, hands holding to her so tight that she was sure she left half-moons where her nails dug into her skin.  “Rose,” she said, when she finally had her voice back, and she bopped the other woman’s nose with one finger, “don’t _do_ that.”

Rose scrunched her nose up and away from Luisa’s flicking finger, but she relaxed again as Luisa leaned upwards so that their lips could meet again.  Luisa couldn’t help but grin at the way Rose’s hands found themselves again, prepared to finally have what she’d been promised earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun beckoned lazily through the windows as Rose awoke, one bleary eye opening, then another.  Luisa snuggled a little closer to her, and as Rose’s arm moved to wrap a little more tightly around her shoulders, she gazed up with eyes that looked just like warm caramel pools from far away.  This close, however, there were sprinkles of cinnamon and a deep forest green running through their center.  “You’re awake,” Luisa said, and her smile felt warmer than the patches of sunlight breaking through the nearby windows, making patchwork of light and shadow across her exposed skin.

“I’m awake,’ Rose echoed, and she brushed her nose against Luisa’s before leaning forward for a short kiss.  She pulled away before Luisa was quite finished, wearing a mischievous grin, and Luisa frowned briefly, wrinkling the bridge of her nose, before chasing her with another.  It wasn’t long before their positions were rearranged, Luisa lying on top of Rose for another kiss, pinning Rose’s arms above her with a loose hold.  When she pulled back, Rose broke her grasp, and her fingers began to stroke through her dark hair and trace along her back, just between her shoulder blades.

“I missed you.”  Luisa kissed Rose’s cheek before lying against her again, hiding her face into the crook of Rose’s neck.

Rose’s eyes widened in feigned shock as she pulled back enough to look Luisa in the eye.  “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

 “You were gone for a very long time, Rose,” Luisa said, and she lay forward, resting her head on Rose’s chest.  “It was my fault completely,” she continued, looking up, the worry plain in her voice even if it wasn’t clear on her face, “for sending you away, for—”

Rose kissed Luisa’s forehead, continuing to trace circles on her back.  “I _did_ give Michael amnesia.”

“I didn’t tell you that you couldn’t.”  Luisa sighed and lay her head back on Rose’s chest, staring out across the bedroom.  “I guess I’ll just need to be clearer this time.”  She looked up again, pressing a kiss to the edge of Rose’s jaw.  “No hurting people we like.”

“That’s easy enough,” Rose replied, shifting as she tucked a strand of Luisa’s hair behind her ear.  “I only like you.”

“And you hurt _me_ if you hurt people _I_ like.”

“Ah.”  Rose frowned, lips pursed.  “So _that’s_ how this works.”

“That’s _exactly_ how this works.”    Luisa bit Rose’s earlobe and gave it a playful tug.  “But we can discuss that later.”

Rose turned to give her a proper kiss, and Luisa hummed with contentment, her fingers curling through the curls of Rose’s hair.  She pulled away enough to brush their noses together then shifted to sit up.  Then she took a deep breath in and ran her fingers along Rose’s cheek.  “ _You_ were going to tell me about your new second-in-command.”

As Luisa watched, Rose’s face froze.  She placed her hand over Luisa’s.  “Later,” she murmured, leaning forward for another kiss.

“Mmm.”  Luisa tried not to melt and forced herself to move backwards.  “Don’t distract me with your hair and your face and your—”  She _jumped_ as Rose ran her fingers over the curve of her bare waist.  “Hey!  We’re trying to have a discussion!”

“ _I’m_ not,” Rose said as she hovered over Luisa with a grin.  “ _I’m_ trying to make up for lost time.  Which,” she brushed her fingertips slowly along Luisa’s skin, “was not _my_ fault, by the way.  So we can wait a little bit before that discussion, can’t we?” she asked, eyes meeting Luisa’s, lips contorted into a pleading pout.

Luisa _tried_ to say no.  She really did.  But it was hard when she was looking into the brightest eyes she’d ever seen, like looking up into the sky on a cloudless day, feeling like she had wings, heart so full she might as well be flying.  Harder still when this feeling had been _gone_ for three years, unable to be filled by time spent with her family, who would never acknowledge that losing Rose _had_ been a loss, like her heart had been torn in half, like the glow it had carried was gone forever.

So, as much as she wanted to push forward, she just nodded, hypnotized, and leaned forward so that her lips could met Rose’s again, shifting as her hand moved to Rose’s back, pulling her down on top of her.  She could hear the purr building behind Rose’s lips and tugged on her lower lip.  Rose shortened the kiss, moving to place another, open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive area where Luisa’s jaw met her neck, tongue licking the skin before she bit down and began to suck.  Luisa couldn’t suppress a low, soft moan—

There came an abrupt knock at the door, and the sound stifled the one building in the back of Luisa’s throat, cutting it off and turning it into a squeak.  She pulled the sheets around her, hands moving from where they’d begun to cling to Rose’s skin, and curled beneath her lover, eyes wide as they shifted to Rose.

Rose, however, seemed more _annoyed_ than afraid, and she settled down against Luisa’s side with a displeased huff.  “Who’s there?” she called.

The door cracked open, and Luisa watched as Rose’s jaw clenched.  She turned to see who was at the door as they began to say, “I have business to attend to with—”

“ _Rose_ ,” Luisa said, her voice uncertain, as she hit her lover’s shoulder with one hand and then instinctively curled a little closer to her.  “Rose, she looks _just like me_.”

Well.  _Just like_ was a bit of an exaggeration, considering that Luisa would never wear _anything_ like that.  All black and tight fit and shoulders and angles.  Even with the waist accentuated and the buttons, it just…it wasn’t her style at all.  And her hair!  All pulled and slicked back so tight, tied into three braids that she could barely see.

_And then there was that scar._

“That,” Rose said, and she sighed, her gaze avoiding Luisa’s probing one, “is Janet, my second-in-command.”

It took a moment before Luisa completely understood what Rose was saying, and as soon as she realized, she tensed, pulling away.  She wasn’t sure if the movement as _conscious_ or _not_ , but it had to be related to the piece of ice curling up in the middle of her chest, stoppering the warmth that had been there only moments before.

“Am I interrupting something again?” Janet asked, and when Luisa glanced her way, she found that the other woman was staring right at her.  She shivered and looked away again.

At her words, Rose sighed and stood, wrapping the sheets around her.  “No, Janet, you’re….”  She seemed to hesitate, but while Luisa was curious, it wasn’t enough for her to look.  “You’re _perfect_.”

Luisa burrowed beneath the comforter that Rose left behind, watching as the few rose petals that still covered the bed fell down around her feet or off the bed onto the floor.  At this point, most of them were scattered on the wooden floor next to and under the bed, although a few stuck to the soles of Rose’s bare feet as she moved forward to meet Janet, tightening the cream-colored sheet around her.  For the mountain location, the comforter was thick and full of soft down, but while it _did_ do a good job of keeping Luisa warm alone in the bed, it wasn’t nearly as comforting as the warmth of the woman who had only just disentangled herself from her.  And it _certainly_ didn’t stop the chill of realizing that this woman… _this woman!_

Rose came to a stop in front of the woman who she’d said was her second, the woman who looked just like Luisa, and as Luisa watched, she lifted her hand, brushing her fingers along the other woman’s face, tracing the deep lightning-shaped scar carved deep into her skin.

Janet flinched at Rose’s touch, eyes flicking away from Luisa to focus entirely on Rose.

“Is something wrong?” Rose asked, voice soft, as soon it appeared she had the other woman’s full attention.

“No.”  Janet leaned into her touch as Rose cupped her cheek, the way a stray cat might with a familiar face when they only might ever hiss at a strange one.  Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath before opening them again as though to steady herself, an act Luisa completely understood, having had to do it many times herself.  “Nothing is wrong.”

“Do you need attention?”  Rose brushed her thumb along Janet’s cheek, making sure she continued to face her, then traced it down her painted lips.

At her words, though, Janet flinched away.  Her hands clenched once then unclenched, and when her fingers spread across, Luisa saw sparks arc across them, an action that stopped as soon as Rose took one of her hands and held it up close to her chest.  Maybe she thought Luisa wouldn’t see.  Well, she _had_ , even if she didn’t know what it was she had seen.

“Are you jealous?”  This, from Rose, Luisa could barely make out.

“Stop,” Janet said, and she stepped backwards, wresting her hand out of Rose’s grasp.  Her gaze flicked to Luisa again, and their eyes met long enough for her to feel a shock.  Then Janet stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Tempestuous _child_ ,” Rose murmured under her breath as she turned back around to face Luisa.  She walked back to the bed without looking up, watching her hand and moving her fingers as though checking something.  Then she curled up back on the edge of the bed.

When she tried to reach for Luisa’s hand, Luisa pulled away, turning completely around to face the wall instead of Rose.  She didn’t move as Rose’s fingers moved beneath the comforter, kneading the sore, taut muscles in her back.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.  Absolutely nothing is wrong.”

“Mmmm.”  Rose began to press a little harder on the knots in Luisa’s back.  “Seems like something’s wrong.”

“No.  I’m fine.”

The fingers on her back paused, and Luisa felt relieved.  It was hard to stay mad at Rose when she was trying so hard to make up for what she’d done, even if she didn’t know what she’d done, which was probably more the problem.  It would be so easy to forgive Rose but not say what was bothering her.

Then Rose pressed her soft lips to the skin where her neck curved into her shoulder, and Luisa melted.  “Rose,” she said, turning to face her.

“Hm?”

“Your second in command looks just like me.”

Luisa wrapped the comforter a little more snugly around herself but didn’t scoot away any farther.  Her eyes searched Rose’s face for some indication that she understood what was bothering her, but if she did, Rose was certainly acting as though she didn’t.  “Tell me you knew that.”

Rose’s head tilted ever so slightly to one side, and her eyes shifted away, as though considering it.  “You’re right,” she said finally, eyes meeting Luisa’s again.  “There _is_ some resemblance there.”

Luisa thwacked Rose’s shoulder again, but this time it was hard enough for Rose to pull away, rubbing at the now red spot on her bare, freckled skin.  “You _knew_ that.  You _knew_ and you _brought her here with you_.”  She continued to hit Rose’s skin as she spoke.

“She’s my second.  What was I going to do?  Leave the head of my security in the middle of nowhere while I came out here with you for a secret rendezvous?”  Rose’s voice sounded tight, and her jaw clenched.  “You haven’t been the _safest_ person to be around, Luisa.  I couldn’t come out here alone.”

“But you—!”  Luisa couldn’t figure out how to express her feelings in true words.   “Why do you have a second-in-command who looks _just like me_?  Where did you even _find_ her?”  Her voice squeaked at the end; she couldn’t stop it, as much as she wanted to, and she hated that her frustration was so easily broken, so easily noticed.  Her lips pressed together, and she tugged on her lower lip as she turned away to face forward, trying to make sure she didn’t say anything more because she didn’t know _how_ to say it.

But Rose seemed to notice, finally, that there was something wrong.  She reached over, fingers soft on Luisa’s skin, and turned her head so that she was facing her again.  “Luisa,” she murmured, and it wasn’t until her thumb brushed a tear from Luisa’s cheek that Luisa even realized she was crying, another thing she hated about herself.  She was _mad_ , not…  Whatever it looked like she was.

Luisa didn’t turn away again, but she made sure to keep her eyes from focusing on Rose’s face.  She flicked them back once, only to see that Rose was searching her face, uncomprehending.  Then she just as quickly looked away again, focusing on a spot on the opposite end of the room, near to the door where Janet had been standing only a few moments ago.

She didn’t expect it – she never really did, when she was upset – so when Rose leaned forward and brushed their lips together, Luisa was startled.  This, she knew, was the easiest way for Rose to communicate with her, and one of the few ways that Luisa was certain the other woman wasn’t trying to _lie_ or _hide something_.  It wasn’t long before she relaxed, and her hand moved to play with the hair at the nape of Rose’s neck.

When Rose pulled away, Luisa nodded once, her eyes lowering.  “Where did you find her?” she asked again, voice soft, and she pushed her arm along her cheeks to dry the last of her tears.

“I didn’t find her,” Rose said.  “ _She_ found _me_.”  She sighed and leaned back against the headboard, but Luisa didn’t move.  Instead she stayed sitting upright, staring at the redhead.  “I met her long before you,” Rose continued, fingers tracing the curve of the wooden bedpost.  “She was one of Elena’s henchmen.  She was supposed to make sure I did whatever Elena wanted.”

“And now she works for you?”

Rose’s gaze returned to Luisa, as though gauging her interest, and they met hers once before glancing back to the bedpost.  “Elena wasn’t very _smart_ with Janet.  She may have certain _positive abilities_ to her,” and here Rose smirked, as though telling a joke that Luisa couldn’t understand, “but I can be very… _persuasive_ given the right circumstances.”  Her eyes met Luisa’s before taking in her appearance, moving down and then up again, and her smile, albeit small, grew wry.

_Oh._

Luisa wiped at the wet marks still lingering on her cheeks.  “You _seduced her_.”

“Elena sent a woman to watch me.  Of course I seduced her.”  Rose’s words were very matter of fact.  She propped herself up by the palms of her hands.  “It all happened a long time before you.”

“That doesn’t matter.”  Luisa stared at her hands, her voice soft.  Her throat felt tight.

After a long silence, Rose let out another sigh.  “After… _after_ , Janet worked for me.  She gave me information on Elena’s plans, anything I needed.  Janet was a huge part of getting Elena caught.  She helped me dispose of Derek—”

“He was your _brother_ ,” Luisa said, head whipping about so that she could face Rose again, and her words felt like a hiss.

“He was _Elena’s son_ , and he….”  Rose shook her head, her lips pressed together, and her gaze roamed about the room again, as though trying to find somewhere to land.  It took a few minutes before she began to speak again.  “Janet disappeared for a few years when I retired – when we were—”

“In the Caymans.”

“Yes.”  Rose’s voice was tight.  “When I got out of prison, she found me again.  She blamed herself for not finding me sooner.”  She heaved her shoulders once and seemed to relax.  “It’s mostly been the two of us since then.  You wanted me to retire, and even though you’d chosen to be with your brother and his family, I _had_ promised.  I couldn’t kill people, but I didn’t want to be thrown in prison again.  Janet was…valuable to me.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“You asked.” 

Rose reached out and placed a hand on Luisa’s shoulder, but Luisa didn’t move.  She didn’t _want_ to move.  Not while she was still processing, still trying to understand everything that had happened.  She took a deep breath, searching the wrinkles and folds of the comforter in front of her, as though that would help.  It didn’t.  “So you’re saying,” and here she paused, gathering the words, “you’re saying _I_ looked like _her_?  Not the other way around?”  Luisa shook her head, hands tightening on the comforter.  “Elena hated me.  She wouldn’t want someone who looked like me working on her staff.”

“Why not?”  Rose’s hand moved up and down Luisa’s arm.  “Before the whole _eye_ thing happened, having a body double to replace you would have been extremely useful for our—for _her_ plans.”  Even with the change, there was no covering up the stumble.  But she continued on as though she hadn’t made it.  “But once _that_ happened, well, there was no way Elena could pass her off as you.”  She brushed strands of Luisa’s hair from her face, and as she did so, her fingertips just touched her skin.  “You were the one factor Elena couldn’t figure out how to control.  She wasn’t afraid of you by any means, but she knew….”

Here, Rose’s voice dropped off, and her hand dropped.

Against her better judgment, Luisa turned to look at Rose again.  The other woman _appeared_ to be contrite, her hands piled in the middle of her lap.  Knowing everything didn’t really make the realization – the _understanding_ – that Janet looked like her any better, especially not with _seduction_ in the picture.  If anything, the more she knew, the more uncomfortable she had grown.  She began to trace circles on the comforter still wrapped around her.  “She knew _what_?” Luisa asked, her voice soft, even though she knew what Rose would say.

Rose looked up to meet Luisa’s gaze and ran a finger along her cheek.  “That I wouldn’t be able to keep away from you,” she said, her voice just as soft.  “That no matter how much I tried, I would keep coming back to you.”

“Like a drug,” Luisa murmured as she looked away.  She scooted a little closer to Rose, her fingers beginning to fiddle with the sheet wrapped around the other woman.  “Why?” she asked, voice still soft, eyes lifting to meet Rose’s again.

“You know why,” Rose huffed.

“Tell me anyway,” Luisa said, leaning forward to brush her nose against Rose’s.

“You know I don’t like saying it,” Rose said, hand moving to brush through Luisa’s hair.

“Say it anyway.”  Luisa moved close enough that their lips were just touching, and her gaze moved to the sheets curled around Rose.  “You must be _cold_ underneath nothing more than those sheets,” she murmured, lips brushing against Rose’s as she spoke.  “I could help with that.”

“I love you.”  Rose leaned forward, and Luisa allowed her to kiss her.  It was brief, short.  Too short.

“ _There_ ,” Luisa said as she leaned away.  “That wasn’t _hard_ , was it?”  She grinned and pressed a kiss to the tip of Rose’s nose.  “Come here.”  She lifted the edge of the comforter, and Rose, shivering, curled beneath it before releasing the edges of her sheets.  Luisa ran her hand through Rose’s red curls and lowered her head so that their foreheads just touched.  “I needed to hear you say it.”

Rose nodded once then looked up through long lashes.  “ _You_ aren’t jealous, are you?”

Luisa pulled away long enough to give Rose a flat look, and Rose laughed before saying, “You don’t have anything to worry about.  I chose _you_ , remember?  _You_ were the one with me in the Caymans, not Janet, and _you_ are the one here with me now.”

“But I—”

“— _came back_.”  Rose settled against Luisa just so, their bodies slotting together easily enough, as she pet her hair.  “If I hadn’t wanted you, do you think I would have let that happen?”  She ran her fingers along Luisa’s side, but Luisa was already shivering.  “Let me want you.”  She began to trace circles on the curve of Luisa’s waist.

“ _That’s not fair_ ,” Luisa murmured.  She swatted at Rose’s arm again, and Rose stopped just enough to curve her hand around Luisa’s waist and pull her against her.  Luisa leaned forward and gave Rose a kiss.  “Fine,” she said, finally, as she pulled away.  “You can want me.  For now.  For as long as I like.”  She cupped Rose’s cheek.  “Your wanting suits me.”  Then she leaned forward for another kiss.

“Now, where were we before your Janet so rudely interrupted?” Luisa asked, eyes wandering as she hovered over Rose.

“I think,” Rose murmured as she roughly switched their positions, running her fingers along Luisa’s cheek, tracing the curve of her face, “we were somewhere around _here_.”  She pressed her open lips against the curve of Luisa’s neck again and began to suck on her pulse point.

Luisa couldn’t suppress the low moan that Rose pulled from her lips, and her fingers tightened on Rose’s curls.  “Yes,” she said, already breathless, “just there.”  She tugged Rose away from her neck long enough so that their eyes could meet again.  Her eyes flicked to the door.  “No interruptions this time, okay?” she said as her eyes returned to Rose.  “No matter how hard or how long she knocks.”

“What if she comes in again?” Rose asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to Luisa’s lips.  “What then?”

“Like I said last time,” Luisa said.  “There’s a chair right there.  She can watch.”  Her eyes met Rose’s.  “Unless that will bother you.”

Rose shook her head, and her nose traced Luisa’s.  “Not this time.  Not at all.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rose resisted the urge to join Luisa in the shower.

 _Not_ because she didn’t _want_ to join her (she did), and _not_ because Luisa didn’t want her to join in (she did), and _not_ because she didn’t _need_ a shower (after all of the hot, sweaty sex, _she did_ ), but because there was something else she needed to address.

Or, rather, not _something_ but _someone_.

Rose waited until she could hear the water gushing through the showerhead and then took an extra moment, against her own better judgment, to look inside and make sure Luisa was actually in the shower and not just pretending to be so that she could listen in on the conversation (and then took another, even longer minute to appraise the shadowed shape of her against the rose-colored curtain (it seemed like she wasn’t the only one who enjoyed playing games with her name), turning away just in time for Luisa to _not_ see her staring).  Convinced that Luisa wasn’t listening in (and didn’t seem to be concerned with anything related to the building’s sole other occupant), Rose left their suit and walked down the hall to the adjoining one.  She rapped the knuckle of her first finger against the closed door twice and then waited.

She didn’t have to wait long.

There was no question of _Who is it?_ because there were only two other people in the entire vacation house, and while _both_ of them had been interrupted more than once, only one of them would have the logical head to stand outside her door and return the favor.  The door opened apparently on its own, but Rose knew better than to believe it, just as she knew not to let her hand rest on the doorknob or the door at all, unless she wanted a nasty little jolt.  But there was just enough room for her to slip through without touching anything.

“You needed to see me?” Rose asked as she entered Janet’s suite, turning to see the lightning scarred woman standing just behind the door.  Her brows rose.  “Are you planning on attacking me?”

“No,” Janet said, slipping from behind the door and passing Rose by as she returned to her bed.  The room was bare, other than the aforementioned; there was a closet on one side more than big enough to hold all of Janet’s clothing, and she wasn’t the sort to bring any sort of knick-knacks to give her room any sort of personality.  It was one of the things Rose liked about her, if she could be said to like anything at all.

“Were you planning on attacking _Luisa_?”

“No,” Janet repeated, sitting down on the edge of her bed, but despite her words and her tone, Rose could see the sparks flickering across her fingertips.  “I wouldn’t want to hurt her.  I shudder to think what you would do to me.”

Rose shut the door behind her – and despite Janet no longer standing behind it, she still felt a static jolt as she touched the doorknob.  “You keep interrupting us.”

“You brought me along to make sure the building is safe.”

“No, _you brought yourself along_ because _you_ don’t trust Luisa the way I do.”

Janet’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything.  She wasn’t any better at hiding how she felt than Rose was, but her tells were different.  There was no gritting of her teeth, no clenching of her jaw, no jumping muscle as though she were clamping shut on words she wanted to say and knew that she couldn’t.  Rose’s rage rose red hot when she was angry.  She didn’t care _what_ Janet’s did, so long as _she_ could control and redirect it.

Rose walked across to where Janet sat on the bed, and Janet’s head snapped up, her one good eye trained on her.  Then Rose crouched in front of her, placing one hand on her stockinged knee.  She could feel Janet flinch beneath her touch, but she didn’t shy away.  “Do you really think this is a trap?”

“I think it _could_ be.”

“Do you think it _is_?” Rose repeated, her voice still and soft and silky smooth.

Janet didn’t say anything at first.  Her gaze focused on the hand still on her knee, and she shook her head once without saying anything.  Sparks still gathered, flickering, around her fingertips, perhaps more than there had been before.

“Are you still wearing you rings?”

Janet raised one hand and clicked together the rings on her thumb and middle finger the way a crab might clack its claws – _clink clink clink_.  “Still got them.”

“Thank you.”

Rose slowly moved her hand up and along Janet’s palm.  Then she interlaced their fingers, ignoring the static like pop rocks against her skin.

“Don’t,” Janet said with a growl building in the back of her throat.

Her thumb brushed along the back of Janet’s hand anyway, and she suppressed a grin as he felt the other woman shiver.  “Don’t what?”

Janet’s gaze flicked up to finally meet Rose’s, and in her good eye there was no green or gold as there was in Luisa’s eyes if she looked deeply enough, only that dull, dull, flat brown without a hint of anything other than muddy water.  The prosthetic of the other was a blinding blue – cartoonish, not the bright of the sky above or the dark of the ocean below but as fake as the wax Crayola color only with a thin shine as though it were covered in drool – but Rose didn’t flinch away from it.

“You know what,” Janet said, finally, when there was nothing in Rose’s eyes for her to see.  She still hadn’t taken her hand out from Rose’s.

“Say it.”

The water from Luisa’s shower continued to pound in the distance, the door still shut behind her, and knowing these things, Rose leaned up so that her face was mere centimeters from the other woman’s.  Her eyes flicked down to her chapped lips, rested there as she tilted her head to one side, and then returned to the dirty brown gaze she’d never liked.  “You know how this works.”

“ _Please._ ”

Careful to make sure that she could still hear the water drumming in the distance, Rose moved forward until her lips met Janet’s.  There was the slightest of static jolts between them – _intentional_ , as she well knew it would be at this point, even though she hadn’t expected it – before the other woman seemed to relax into the kiss, her hand tightening on the one Rose still had interlaced with hers.  When Rose pressed against her, Janet leaned back until she was lying comfortably on the mattress with Rose hovering just above her.  Janet’s free hand moved to the small of Rose’s back, where it gave her a gentle shock, as Rose’s moved to cup her face, thumb rubbing along the lightning scar deeply embedded into her skin.  Janet took a deep, shaky breath as Rose broke the kiss, gaze searching Rose for what was probably an attempt to see what she was doing.

“Please _what_?” Rose whispered, goading her.

Janet was quiet for a moment longer, fingers tracing Rose’s spine where it jutted against her thin blouse.  “Please _stop_.”  Her voice was soft, not even a whisper, but firm as a steel rod.  Her gaze drifted down to Rose’s lips – those two unshapely, mismatched colors together – as the tracing continued, holding Rose in place.

Then Janet leaned up to initiate another kiss.

She tasted of ginger and wintergreen tic tacs, the scent of pine sharp against her – all rough and manly and reeking of what Rose once associated with her murdered husband (and still _did_ , if she were to be asked, more than she’d ever associated them with the woman beneath her) somehow wrapped into a form so similar to his only daughter that when she dressed properly, wore an appropriate prosthetic, and covered her scar, Rose didn’t have to close her eyes to fuck her – as though _any_ of these things were even remotely appealing to her.  They weren’t.  She’d never said it, but they weren’t.  They only served as visceral reminders that this woman, no matter how much she might paint herself up and pretend to be otherwise, would never be on the same level as the one that Rose _actually_ loved.

That didn’t mean, however, that she couldn’t be _useful_.

Rose hummed with the slightest ascent of pleasure and then pulled away just as the shower turned off.  “I thought you wanted me to stop.”

“Not that.”

It was far too easy to offer the smug smile in the place of what she knew Janet wanted, hand curving gently around her cheek as it moved from her scar to her chin.  “ _Never_ that.”

Janet watched the movement of her fingers, and her own tightened on the small of Rose’s waist.  Her gaze moved away to the closed door.  Then she shut her eyes, untangled her fingers from Rose’s and pushed her away with the brunt of her palm.  “Go,” she said, her voice gravelly and rough.  “Wouldn’t want your princess to find you missing.”

Rose stumbled backwards as she fell back.  Her jaw tightened – not enough for the muscle to quiver beneath her skin, not long enough for it to be noticed if it did – and her fingers clinched just the slightest bit into a fist before relaxing.  The smile returned as Janet moved back into a sitting position, pulling on the hem of her shirt sleeve, although Rose knew – and she knew Janet did, as well – that it was just as much baring her teeth as it was jovial in nature, if not more so.

“Oh, Janet,” she whispered, her voice that same soft hush as the other woman’s had been.  “You _do_ care.”

There was another little jolt of static shock as Rose’s hand gripped the doorknob again, this one quite a bit more than the one earlier when she shut the door, and she gritted her teeth together again so hard that she could feel her bones grinding together.  “Don’t,” she said as she opened the door, “turn all the doorknobs into static bombs.”

“Of course not,” Janet replied.  “Wouldn’t want to seriously maim anyone.”

But as Rose turned back to give her a stern look, she could see the same smug smile on Janet’s face that she’d seen so many times on Luisa’s, but darker for the black clothes, the tight braids, the flat mud and fake crayon blue eyes.  It didn’t make her afraid – she could control Janet, if worst came to worst – but it did make her wary, the beginnings of anger pooling in the center of her chest.

She didn’t have time for this right now.

“We’ll talk more later.”

“Will we?”

Rose didn’t say anything in reply, only shutting the door behind her with another little jolt.  Janet could _stay_ in there for all she cared.  It’s not like she was _important_.


	4. Chapter 4

The taste of Rose’s last kiss lingered on Janet’s tongue.  Longer than she expected, longer than she wanted.  The lavender dissipated almost immediately, but that tart sweetness of strawberries – overwhelming both in taste and scent – remained.  It was in an act of abject desperation that she thundered from her suite to the connecting kitchen, which she’d found stocked with food when they had arrived the previous day.

There were already packages of powdered donuts missing from one of the cupboards when she rummaged through them again.  _Someone_ had been prepared.  It wasn’t hard to guess who.

Janet flicked the stove on, pulled various ingredients from their places, and within a few minutes, there was the crackle and snap of bacon frying away in its pan.  A carton of eggs waited for her in the fridge if she wanted to mess with them or make food for anyone other than herself, and a glass now half full of milk sat on the counter next to her.  She swallowed another large gulp as she watched the strips on the stove.

Now – to be quite frank – cooking was _not_ Janet’s forte.  During the early years when she might have learned how to cook, there’d been other people to do that for her, and the constant sparks from her hands – big or small – had ruined too many stoves, too many ovens, for her to even attempt to do much cooking for herself.  She’d avoided them entirely, even after she’d gotten her grounding rings.  But in the years since Rose’s died that last time, she’d started taking on small roles.

Or maybe it was less that she’d taken them on and more that someone finally decided she was worth teaching.

_“You have to keep your eye on it.”  Rose shifted the pan over the fire as smoke rose in curls around the sizzling pork.  “Bacon can burn all too quickly if you aren’t paying attention.”_

_Janet munched on one of the pieces she’d already burnt.  “I don’t mind,” she lied.  “Crispy bacon is better.”  And she’d gown more than used to eating burnt food on her many other attempts to learn how to cook.  At least this one still had the taste of the bacon it was supposed to be.  That was something._

_Rose looked across the fire to where she sat, her eyes narrowing into an unbelieving glare, and Janet pulled her legs up closer to her chest.  The soles of her black boots dragged across the rock on which she sat, scratching it with their rubber soles.  She rested her head on her knees and continued to watch with her one good eye._

_“There.”_

_Rose moved the pan out of the fire and placed it on a nearby rock to cool.  “They aren’t perfect, but they’re better than what you made.”_

_“You can say it.”_

_“Say what?” Rose asked, her brows raising._

_“I made_ shit _.”  Janet picked up another one of her overly crispy bits of bacon and pressed it between her fingers.  It crumbled into ash without much pressure at all.  “This stuff is horrible.”_

_“I thought you liked that stuff.”  Rose leaned back on the palms of her hands, her head tilting ever so slightly to one side._

_Janet just shrugged.  “Yours smells better.”_

_“Mmhm.”  And that smug smile – the one she remembered from their early days together, the one she hadn’t seen in what felt like years (and, with everything that happened, it had likely been that long) – finally appeared._

_Finally._

“Is that bacon?”

Janet jumped under her skin, a precursory shock spiking out from the tips of her fingers to the pan she quickly moved away from the stove – quickly enough to avoid that shock having explosive results from the gas burner itself but not so quickly that it didn’t jump through the sparks in the pan, pop the oil, and have a bit of it sting the scar on her cheek – and she whirled to face the person asking the question, the hot pan in her hand like a sword between them.

The girl who looked like her – _yes_ , her name was Luisa, and _yes_ , Janet knew what her name was; she just didn’t care – jumped back as Janet span towards her, lifting her hands out between them with her palms facing toward her.  “Sorry!  I didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought—”

“You just thought _what_?” Janet growled.  She didn’t move, the pan still between them, hot grease precariously on the edge closest to the other girl.

Luisa offered her an awkward grin, keeping her hands still up between them.  “I thought maybe I’d help?”

Janet stood there unmoving for a few moments, taking in the other girl’s appearance.  Her hair was dripping wet from her shower, but it still held the waves she’d seen in the pictures Rose kept with her and made no show of hiding.  She was too _happy_ for someone who had a fire hot steel pan full of bacon and boiling grease pointed in her direction, not to mention the—

_She didn’t know about her charge._

A slow grin didn’t spread across Janet’s face.  She’d learned to keep that sort of joy hidden as much as possible.  Then she heard the shower turn on again in the bathroom nearby, and she couldn’t stop the tilt of her head to one side with a gesture indicating that the other girl could join her in the kitchen.  She turned to place the bacon back on the stove then hesitated and placed it on a soft mat on the counter instead.

As Luisa moved past her, Janet reached out, touched her bare skin, and gave her a gentle shock.  When Luisa jumped, she did, too.  “Sorry,” she said, her voice soft.  “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no, it’s okay!  It’s probably my fault!” Luisa said, her bright hazel eyes meeting Janet’s without flinching.  “All that build up.  The floor’s cold and, you know, socks.”  She grinned, but it wasn’t a happy one.  “I’m really bad about picking up my feet.”  She moved back to rummaging through the cabinets for another pan and then plopped it on the stove.  “Rose used to say I was her little livewire,” she continued with a little laugh.

“You’re not the only one she says that to,” Janet replied, her voice tight.  She didn’t look up, instead focusing on moving the bacon from her pan onto a plate covered with paper towels to catch the grease.

Luisa stopped and looked up.  “She said that to you?”

“No,” Janet said.  “She never had to.”  And that was true enough.  Rose had never had to say anything of the sort to her.  Unlike some people, like little miss Luisa here, _livewire_ would never feel like a _good_ pet name.  If anything, the name would—

_“Did I hurt you?”_

_“No.”  Rose’s fingers tightened on Janet’s back, nails digging into her bare skin.  There was only a hint of hesitation before those nails scratched deeply down her spine.  “Am I hurting you?”_

_Janet shivered once and offered a thin hum of pleasure.  “No.  I like it.”_

_“Good.”  Rose nipped at her neck.  “You’ll tell me if you don’t.”  It wasn’t a question.  A lot of things weren’t questions with her._

_“Of course.”_

_“And I’ll tell you,” Rose started, pausing for another nip, “if your shocks are too much.”_

_Janet nodded once, too much, as the nipping at her neck turned into a thicker, firmer bite._

Her eyes moved to the pan Luisa was covering butter.  “What are you making?”

“You’ll see.”  Luisa grinned as she began to cut holes in a few pieces of bread before placing it – not the circles she’d cut out, but the rest of it – into the pan, where they slowly began to toast.  Then she opened the carton of eggs and broke an egg in the hole of each piece of bread.  When she noticed that Janet was still watching her, she asked, “Haven’t you ever eaten anything like this before?”

“No.”

“Your mother never made anything like this for you before?”

Janet’s teeth gritted together, and she didn’t say anything, swallowing the last of her milk.  Instead, as she passed Luisa on her way back to the fridge, she brushed against her just enough to give off another slight static shock.  She could see out of the corner of her good eye when Luisa jumped a little at the jolt, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

“I must have gotten more static build up than I thought!” Luisa said, looking down at her fuzzy socks.  “I hope I won’t do that again.”  Then she laughed.  “ _But_ I probably will.  Maybe I should just sit in the corner and let you work!”

“No, no,” Janet said, pulling a jug of apple juice out of the fridge.  “You stay right there and keep cooking.”  She moved past Luisa again, giving her a harsher jolt as she brushed past her to retrieve her glass.  “You girls can’t live on a cupboard full of powdered donuts, after all.”

 _Girls_ , as though Rose could be anything other than pure _woman_ , as if she wasn’t jealous at all.

She _wasn’t_ jealous.

Rose just deserved better than someone who threw her off a roof and onto a gold statue and then set fire to her at the first given opportunity.  She didn’t understand how Rose couldn’t _see_ that.  Three years together was one thing, but _murder was another thing entirely_.  It didn’t matter how long they were together if one of them was okay with killing the other.

At least Janet _knew_ that Rose didn’t care one way or the other about her.  But Rose kept pretending that _this_ woman cared about _her_.  And there was no way for Janet to believe that.  This was, in fact, why she had forced Rose to allow her to come along.  She knew better than to believe that Luisa meant well for Rose.

This was just selfish on Luisa’s part.  Not true love, whatever Rose thought it was.  People who truly loved each other didn’t hurt each other the way Luisa had hurt Rose.

Luisa jumped again at the sudden jolt, but she still didn’t seem to suggest that Janet might be doing it at all.  Instead, she turned to the stove and glared at it.  “I think the stove might be mad at me.”  She turned to face Janet.  “Do you mind if I use your burner?”

“Not at all.  Have at.”  Janet waved one hand in Luisa’s direction.  She situated herself at the nearby round table so that she could face the other girl as she tried to cook at the other burner.

“Thanks.  You’re done with it, right?”

Janet nodded, knowing that Luisa wasn’t looking at her, knowing that it would – and _did_ – make the other girl turn around to face her.  She pretended not to know that Luisa was double-checking for some acknowledgment of her question and waited while the other stared at her.  “What?”

“You’re done with the burner?”

“Yeah.  I told you you could use it.”

“Right, but I wanted to make sure you were—”

“What are you two arguing about?”

Janet’s head popped up, and she looked at Rose, who apparently had finished with her shower, although Janet hadn’t heard the water stop running.  On second thought, now that she was paying attention, the water _was_ still running.  Her brow furrowed.  “How long have you been standing there?”

Rose’s head tilted to one side.  “I thought you were supposed to be making sure everything was secure.  If you can’t even keep track of when I show up, how can I trust you to make sure we don’t have any invaders?”

This time, Janet didn’t say anything.  It didn’t matter either way – if Rose had been there long enough to see the shocks, she would hear about it later, and if she didn’t, she could probably guess at it.  And it was possible she _wouldn’t_ hear about it – Rose could be secretive and vindictive when she wanted to be.  It was better to consider her odds and—

“Hey, do you think you could check the burner?” Luisa asked as she moved her pan over to the one Janet had been using.  “I think it’s got an electrical problem or something.”

Rose moved over to the stove.  She wasn’t wearing enough for mechanical work to be a good idea right now, if Janet was any judge.  And by _not wearing enough_ , it should be noted that Rose hadn’t really dressed at all after her shower, instead coming into the kitchen-dining area wearing nothing more than a towel that had one end tucked near her breasts to keep it up.  It was short enough for her freckled legs to be almost completely exposed, and as Rose moved, Janet could see Luisa watching her, examining her, being distracted by her.  For her part, Rose was watching her, too, with an amused smile that was softer than the smug one she normally wore in such a situation.

Intentional.  Everything she did was so very _intentional_.

“Electrical problem?” Rose asked, brushing some of her wet curls back out of her face.  “What sort of electrical problem?”

Luisa shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I just kept getting shocked while I was using it.  Maybe it’s got a loose wire somewhere or something.”  She propped one hand on her waist and sighed.  “But only _that one_ ,” she said, pointing at it with her spatula.  “Janet’s seems to be working fine.”  She glanced back to where Janet sat at the table.  “Yours was fine, right?”

“Right,” Janet said, her voice staying just as firm as it might have been before, and when Rose looked over at her and met her eyes, she saw the question being asked – if there even _was_ a question and not just an assumption – and didn’t say anything more on the subject.  Instead, she stood, her palms flat on the table.  “I think I’m going back to my room.  Wouldn’t want to get in the way of you two lovebirds.”

Luisa turned to look at her, her eyes widening.  “You don’t want to eat with us?”

Janet shook her head.  “You’ll have more fun without me.  Towel and all.”  She took her plate of bacon, moved it a bit, and then pretended to think better of it, instead only taking a few of the pieces from it.

“But I made one for you, too,” Luisa said with a pout.

Janet shrugged.  “Then bring it to me when it’s done.  Or put it in the fridge.  I can eat it later.”

“Rose will eat it.”

“Then Rose will eat it, and you should have made more—”

“Janet.”  Rose met her eyes again, voice firm.  “If you’re going, _go_.”

Point taken.

Janet tilted her head to one side and, despite the fact that Rose would certainly notice, brushed just close enough as she passed Luisa to shock her again.  As much as it would probably come back to bite her later, she couldn’t help but derive a sense of pleasure from hearing Luisa break out into foul language at the shock.

“ _Fuck_ , what is _wrong_ with this thing?”

“Don’t worry,” Janet said, barely looking over her shoulder enough to meet Rose’s eyes again.  “I’m sure Rose will think of a way to fix it.”

“Yeah,” Rose said loud enough for Janet to hear her as she continued to walk away.  “I’m sure I will.”


	5. Chapter 5

Rose stood in front of the stove, clenching and unclenching her jaw as she watched Janet leave.  She took a deep breath in through her nose and felt it in the back of her throat, stagnant.  One hand began to tighten into a fist.  _Rose would fix it_ indeed.  Janet didn’t want to know _how_ Rose would _fix it_ —

“Don’t be mad, Rose,” Luisa started, her voice and her gentle touch causing Rose to jump as she wrapped her fingers around the soft skin of her wrist.  Then she tugged her over to the table.  “I haven’t had anyone in to check on the stove since the last residents moved out.”  She sat down at one of the chairs and gestured for Rose to do the same, waiting until she did so before continuing.  “They must have just forgotten to fix something or maybe it broke after they left.”  She began to cut part of her toast with a fork.  “It’s not that big of a—”

“ _It’s not the fucking stove_ ,” Rose muttered through gritted teeth.  She sat down maybe a little too hard on the wooden chair next to Luisa, enough that it creaked not with the weight but with the force of her, and she propped her elbow on the table so that she could rest her cheek on her knuckles.  It was far too easy to begin picking at her food with her fork – cutting off little pieces and moving them around in the egg yolk but not moving them from the plate or even taking a bite.

Luisa reached over with her fork and took a torn piece from Rose’s place, holding it up in front of Rose’s mouth when her head popped up.  “Open.”

Rose shook her head and leaned back.  “I’m not hungry.”

Luisa’s eyes narrowed.  “You’re _plenty_ hungry.  I _cooked_.”  She shoved the piece a little closer to Rose’s lips.  “And you haven’t eaten anything in hours.  Other than me,” she said before Rose could make the joke.  Her lips pressed together.  “You’re just _upset_.  You never want to eat when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Rose said, moving back from the fork and pushing it away with one hand.

“You _are_ ,” Luisa said, scooting her chair closer to her.  “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Fine, then.”  Luisa placed her fork back down on her plate with a sharp clank.  She crossed her arms just under her chest and raised her eyebrows.  “If the jolts aren’t _the fucking stove_ , then what _are_ they?”  One hand rubbed across her arm where one of the jolts had just brushed her skin.  “They _hurt_.”

Rose let out a sigh and leaned back on her chair until it tilted on its back legs.  She crossed her arms behind her neck, her still wet hair dripping down onto them instead of onto her towel, and watched to see if the sudden exposure of her thighs so much closer to Luisa’s gaze would distract her.  When it didn’t, she looked away again.  “Janet.”

Luisa’s eyes narrowed into a squint.  “What, is she wearing one of those hand things that shock the other person whenever you shake hands?  Because it didn’t look like she was wearing one of those _and_ I’m _pretty sure_ those don’t work when you’re just brushing up against other people _and even if it is_ it’s just static like when I get all of that build up from my socks, and,” here she paused just long enough to reach over and tap Rose’s shoulder, giving her a little zap of her own, “ _thank you_ for letting me get that out of my system.”  She grinned but didn’t pause long enough to let Rose get another word in edgewise.  “She shouldn’t be able to give a _jolt_ like the last one I got before switching burners.  People aren’t like that.”

“Janet is,” Rose said when Luisa finally stopped long enough for her to say anything.  But she chose not to explain further than that, instead reaching over to take a piece of bacon from the plate Janet had left behind.  The movement caused her chair to move ever so slightly, and it slipped on the water now dripping from her hair onto the floor.  When the chair dropped, Rose did, too.

“ _Fuck._ ”

Her teeth bit down _hard_ on her tongue instead of on the piece of bacon she’d hoped to be putting into her mouth.  The plate she’d been touching moved dangerously towards the end of the table but _fortunately_ did not fall.  Instead, she’d landed so hard that her knees were bashed, her elbow scraped against the wall, and her forehead smacked dead center against the table.  Rose let out another – _unpleasant_ – groan and moved to rub her hand across her forehead.

It didn’t take long for Luisa to be kneeling on the ground in front of her.  “Are you okay?”  Her eyes ran over Rose’s – _now even more bare_ – form, and while Rose knew that normally she would take a certain amount of pleasure from seeing so much exposed, the gaze Luisa had for her now was entirely that of the years she’d spent as a medical doctor.  Didn’t matter how many years her license had been suspended, she was still a doctor.

Sometimes they had used that for other purposes, but now was _not_ that time.

“I’m fine, Lu.  I just fell.  I’m—”

“Here, let me—”

Luisa reached out and tenderly brushed her fingers along Rose’s forehead.  The redhead didn’t move, her face contorting instead into a mixture of a scowl and a pout.  Her blue eyes watched as Luisa’s hand moved, pressing every now and again.  Then she _winced_.

“Did that hurt?” Luisa asked.

“No, Lu.  Didn’t hurt at all.”

“So you’re saying it _doesn’t_ hurt when I do _this_?” Luisa asked, pressing the same spot again.

Rose winced again.  “No.  Doesn’t hurt at all.  I’m absolutely fine.”

“Mmhm.”  Luisa gave the spot another gentle press, and as much as Rose tried not to wince, she couldn’t stop herself.  “Doesn’t hurt at all.”  Her fingers brushed along Rose’s skin and then she leaned back, eyes searching her.  “Show me where else it hurts.”

“What, are you going to kiss it and make it better?”

“Maybe.”

But Luisa didn’t wait for Rose to show her anything, her gaze quickly finding where she’d skinned her elbow against the wall and the busted knees that were already bleeding and turning a funny purple shade.  Her lips pursed, and she took one of Rose’s arms in hers.  “C’mon.  Back into the shower with you.”

“What?  I’m still—”

Rose stood at Luisa’s tugging and couldn’t help herself from wincing again.  Her entire body ached – probably a symptom of getting old – _not_ as old as Jane’s horrible book suggested she was (she knew it was fiction, and so the fact that it was chock full of lies _shouldn’t_ bother her, but the fact that said fiction was being paraded around as if it were true didn’t sit well with her), but still _getting older_.  She moved her hand to grip Luisa’s and tightened her grip as she stayed standing.

“We need to get these clean,” Luisa gestured to Rose’s knees, “and since you’re already damp and wet, shower seems like a better idea.  Unless you’d rather I wash them off myself.”

“You can do that anyway,” Rose murmured – or tried to through her gritted teeth, which she was sure changed the entire meaning.

But Luisa seemed to understand what she meant.  “I thought you didn’t have time to shower with me today.”

“This is different,” Rose said, and she turned just enough to face Luisa.  “I’ve gotten everything taken care of that I needed to.”

_Other than talking to Janet about shocking Luisa._

The thought made her grit her teeth again.  But she tried to pass that off, hoping that Luisa would just expect that to be a result of the _not too_ immense pain she was in and not from something else entirely that she was choosing not to tell her.  “We can…take our time.”

Luisa laughed as she started their walk back over to their bathroom.  “Or you can sit down and let me pamper you.”

Rose would have frozen in her tracks if Luisa wasn’t trying to make sure that she kept walking, and she turned to face Luisa with a smile, her tongue poking out between her lips.  “Is that really what you want to do?”

“Would you stop me if it was?”

Rose leaned over and pressed a kiss to Luisa’s cheek.  “Why would I stop you?  You know how I love being pampered.”

Luisa grinned.  “Shower.  _Now._ ”

“Yes, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I expect Luisa to do the "WTF ROSE WHY DOES SHE LOOK LIKE ME" in the next chapter. I meant it to be in this one when I started writing it, but it just didn't happen. Sorry?
> 
> Also if any of you have any ideas for where you want this to go, yo, please let me know because I've got basic catalyst AND that's about it. ><


End file.
